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Warrior Rising

Page 6

by Linda Winstead Jones


  Marie entered the unpleasant warehouse with her nose in the air and two of her strongest soldiers directly behind her. She hadn’t seen Ahron for a long time. If he was angry with her for not including him in her plans… well, he was strong, but if it was necessary the three of them could take him on. Perhaps.

  She didn’t want to kill the old, disturbing vampire. He was a powerful psychic, and she needed him to help her. To join her. Her plans had suffered. In too many ways, her soldiers had failed her. Though she would not admit so aloud, she had failed herself. It was time to regroup.

  In the last few days she’d moved from one house to another, making each one — each larger and more well-furnished than the last — her own. She’d killed or turned the humans who got in her way, settling in and then quickly becoming unsettled and unsatisfied. No mere house was sufficient for her needs. She deserved a castle. Perhaps a white house. The White House. In time.

  She’d changed her clothing as often as she’d changed her mood. While she longed for the fine gowns of another time, for a style of dress which would mark her as a queen for all to note, such clothing was not always practical. For tonight she had chosen black pants, a black silk blouse, and high-heeled boots. While her clothing was plain, she had not given up her jewels. An enormous emerald hung from her neck. Drop earrings of the same stone hung from her ears. No matter what she wore, she would always appear regal.

  In the past several days she’d made a number of children who would serve her. She’d killed with glee and drunk to her heart’s content.

  Tonight she had been unable to take the home she’d chosen. She had been unable to cross the threshold. That damn witch. No one else could have done this to her!

  Marie knocked on the narrow, metal door, which had long ago been painted a putrid green. It was a sad entrance, marked with rust and dents and… was that blood? She could’ve simply blown through his door and presented herself, and her frustration had almost led her to do just that. The rules that protected humans would not protect someone like Ahron. Still, she needed him with her, needed his help. It would be best not to piss him off right away. Just beyond the door, she heard him giggle. It was a disturbing sound.

  The door swung open. Ahron, the most ancient vampire she knew or knew of, smiled at her. His appearance always disturbed her. He was small, with a greenish-white pale face of young features and ancient eyes. His hair had long been white, and he usually moved like an elderly man, though he did retain a magnificent strength.

  She cared nothing for his odd looks. She was here for his mind; for his psychic powers.

  “Marie, my dear,” he said, his always-elongated fangs showing as he stepped back and waved her in. When her soldiers attempted to follow, Ahron seemed to disappear and then reappear behind her — between her and her guards.

  He could move with preternatural speed when it suited him.

  She had the disturbing thought that in spite of his weak appearance he could kill both of her guards instantly, if he chose to. She’d be wise not to underestimate him.

  “Just you, for now,” he said.

  Marie nodded at her soldiers. Ahron closed the door.

  The old vampire rubbed his frail looking hands together in glee. “It has begun! I’m so excited.”

  Even isolated as he was, of course he knew what was going on. He knew everything. Almost everything. Did he see her failures?

  “It has not begun exactly as I planned,” she confessed. Why lie to Ahron? He would know, and he hated being lied to.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “War rarely follows our plans. We must adjust, we must adapt.”

  Marie sighed in relief. He’d used the word we. If Ahron was with her, if he was an ally…

  “Of course I am your ally. Do you think I wish to spend an eternity hiding in this hole beneath the ground, feeding only when the Council sees fit to provide nourishment or when some unlucky bum looking for shelter stumbles upon me? No, I wish to be free, as I once was. As we all should be.”

  Relief washed through Marie. Finally, something on this night had gone right! “I can give you that, but in exchange I need help.” She would appeal to his vanity, if she had to. “I don’t think I can win this without you.”

  He shrugged thin shoulders. “Probably not.”

  She had to ask, she needed to know… “Do you see the end? Will I… will we be victorious?”

  “There will be an end, of course there will be there’s always an end, but I do not yet see it well.” He closed his eyes and reached deep. “I see sunlight and blood, I see ash and steel.”

  That was unhelpful.

  Ahron’s eyes flew open and they fixed on her. She should not be disturbed by anyone or anything, but this ancient disturbed her to her core. “Every being has a weakness. That weakness is not always a physical one.”

  “Luca doesn’t have a weakness.”

  “His woman…”

  Impatient, Marie snapped, “I killed his woman.”

  Ahron smiled. “He saved her, turned her. She is one of us now.”

  Rage, red and hot and dangerous, rose within her. How was that possible! Chloe Fallon had been near death when Marie had fled the mansion. She fought the urge to break something. Near death. She should’ve taken the woman’s bothersome head before making her escape.

  Ahron had the audacity to laugh. “Be glad you failed. Without the woman, Luca has no weaknesses to exploit.”

  Marie had never been glad to fail, but in this case she would, at least, make the best of it.

  “Sorin. I want Sorin, too.”

  “Yes, yes.” Again, that thin, milk-white hand flitted through the air. “You must remove the three in order to win.”

  Luca and Sorin. “Who is the third?”

  “He’s just a boy, a mere human, but he has a powerful spirit. He, too, must be removed in order for you to succeed. All three are vulnerable because they love. You, you are much stronger than they. You love no one.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Sit a while, and let’s talk strategy.” He indicated a long, leather sofa. He rubbed his hands together and again, he giggled.

  * * *

  New York

  Natasha’s Blood was Kenzie’s favorite band. They weren’t wildly successful, but they were pretty well known and had put out a couple of songs on YouTube. The band played this club on occasion; she was lucky they were in town tonight. She liked the

  heavy bass and the electric guitar and the shouted words she couldn’t really understand, but didn’t need to. The words were raw, sexual, and filled with emotion. She felt it. The room pulsed, it almost shook, and she felt every note.

  The crowd tonight was light. Everyone was talking about the violence in Washington. Vampires? No way. Maybe a cult that acted like vampires to scare the pants off everyone else, but there were no real vampires. Murderers who made their killings look like vampires? Sure. The real thing? Impossible.

  Kenzie was twenty-one years old, pretty enough to catch a man’s attention, if not gorgeous, and newly single. She’d decided to embrace being single, for a while. That’s why she was here on her own, tonight. Normally she’d have a date, or a couple of girlfriends, but she didn’t want a date and her girlfriends were all wusses.

  The lead singer of Natasha’s Blood, Darin Randall, was hot. She’d noticed him before, of course, but since she’d been in a relationship (and unlike he who shall not be named, she was faithful) she’d never done anything more than admire Darin from a distance. There was much to admire. His talented hands flew over the strings of his electric guitar; his voice was the one that reached inside her and made a weird sort of sense, even when the words were unintelligible. He didn’t have the thin, strung out look of many rockers she’d seen. He was tall and muscular, with tattooed arms and a thick head of dark hair that was a little shaggy, but not too long. She’d never been close enough to see what color eyes he had, but tonight, with the crowd light and a newly increased drive to do the single thing
well, she worked her way to the front of the room — to the center of the front row — and looked up.

  Green. His eyes were green.

  He looked down at her and smiled. She smiled back. It was a smile that said, “Come and get me.”

  Not that she thought he would. Kenzie was pretty enough, but she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world. She wasn’t even the prettiest girl in the club.

  But Darin kept looking at her. He looked at her as if she were the prettiest girl in the world. At least, the prettiest girl in this small crowd. His green eyes — and beautiful green eyes they were — glowed a little bit. It was a reflection of light, she supposed, and would not last. It was beautiful.

  The glow continued. It didn’t die when he moved his head a little bit. Suddenly the words he was singing made sense. She finally understood.

  Come to me.

  Feed me.

  I need you, Kenzie.

  Come to me.

  She did. Without thinking about what she was doing, Kenzie walked to the steps at the side of the stage, and slowly, very slowly, walked up and onto the platform.

  Darin stepped back, and another band member took his place in front. The singer she had admired for months swung his guitar up and over his head, and set it aside. He reached for her, and she met him. Gladly. In a daze, yes, but still… gladly.

  He placed his mouth near her ear and said, “I don’t have to hide anymore.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” She did not feel like herself at all. Her legs and feet and arms were numb, and at the same time she felt like she was floating. How had she gotten up here? What did it matter? “What were you hiding from?”

  “Everyone.” He looked her in the eye again. Perhaps there was a moment of alarm. Those green eyes really did glow, and for a moment — a brief moment — her brain hurt. Then once again she felt nothing.

  Darin cocked his head and opened his mouth, and she saw the fangs that grew there. There was enough of her left to think, “Oh, shit. Vampires are real.”

  She didn’t mind when he bit down into her throat. It was a sexual thing, a pleasure, even as she felt her life slipping away. People were watching. It was like they were having sex on stage for everyone to see. She didn’t mind, not like she thought she should.

  The music stopped, and Kenzie turned her head in a way that would give Darin better access to what was left of her throat. She wondered who Natasha was, if the woman behind the name of the band had fed Darin the way she now was. And she was jealous. Slipping away, dying, and jealous.

  The other members of the band — there were four of them — leapt from the stage and into the small crowd. They took from others what Darin was taking from her, only they moved more quickly. They did not savor as he did.

  Kenzie heard a woman scream — the scream seemed to be very far away, but she knew it wasn’t — and then she heard nothing at all.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Chloe took a step away from Luca, as Duncan moved in closer to study the map. Isaac had already left, off with a handful of Warriors to set up a new headquarters on the other side of the city. They needed multiple safe havens for the few vampires among them, easily accessible dark spaces that weren’t a potentially deadly hour or so away. No one yet knew what this war would look like, but there would be more battles. There would be bloodshed as Marie and those who supported her attempted to take control, she knew that much.

  There were moments when Chloe was still surprised that even a few vampires were ready and willing to fight for humans.

  Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She was vampire now, and she was ready to fight for humanity. Of course, it hadn’t been all that long ago that she’d been human herself. Some of the others… not so much. She didn’t know the details of Luca’s friends’ lives, but it had been a very long time since either of them had needed to breathe.

  If they could reach out to friends who valued this world as they did, if they could recruit even a handful more vampires to this side, the war with Marie might be significantly shorter. Vampires with friends. Vampires who valued humans. These were concepts she would have dismissed even a few days ago, but now they gave her hope.

  Chloe was happy to leave the planning to the older vampires and the most experienced Warriors. There were times when she could barely think — much less strategize — because everything within and around her was so new and different. She had indeed been reborn.

  She needed to call her parents, and soon. In the past couple of days, she’d replayed the conversation in her head, again and again, and the imagined call never ended on a good note. Maybe it was just as well that she had no idea where her cell phone was. Not that she couldn’t borrow one if she was so inclined. She just didn’t know what to say. I’m a vampire, and I don’t trust myself to be in the same room with you just yet.

  She worried less now that the sanctuary spell was back in place. Neither of her parents saw well enough to drive at night. They were creatures of habit, settled in before dark; in bed no later than ten. And they were well away from D.C., in Atlanta where maybe the rebel vamps were not so active.

  But that conversation… sooner or later she had to figure out what to say.

  It hadn’t been long since Luca had fed her from his own wrist, and already she was hungry. He had told her, more than once, that constant hunger was normal for a newborn.

  Newborn. She’d spent so many years of her life dying, thanks to the aortic aneurysm, that to be a newborn with an endless life ahead of her was beyond amazing.

  Everything looked different. Normal sounds were like music to her ears. The simplest view was like a master’s painting, the colors brighter, the lines sharper. Had she really seen the world she lived in as a human? Not like this. She hadn’t wanted to be turned, not until the moment when she’d literally had to choose between leaving this world for good or staying in it with the man she loved. Luca.

  There might be days to come when she regretted her choice, but today she did not.

  All day she’d felt uneasy in a new way. Something was wrong. Something inside her was different. Well, a lot was different, but this… yeah, something was off. She’d adjusted quickly to the change from human to vampire, much more quickly than normal, according to Luca and his friends. Maybe it was Luca’s blood that made the difference. Maybe it was her. Perhaps beneath what she’d always thought of as an ordinary body and brain something that made her special had lurked. She’d been a conduit, after all, and not every human was capable of hearing the call of an Immortal Warrior.

  For the first time in days Chloe stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She didn’t need to breathe, not really, but there was something normal and calming and ordinary about breathing in and out. She listened, calling on her newly enhanced hearing. She focused on the faint heartbeats of those in the room. Vampires, humans, and Warriors all had beating hearts. It was perhaps the one thing they had in common. Thump, thump. Luca’s heartbeat was slow, the slowest in the room. His two vampire friends also had slow heartbeats. Jimmy’s heart rate was dangerously high. It raced, but at least it raced steadily. He was in no danger. The two Warriors who also stood over the map had heart rates somewhere in between.

  Then there was her own heartbeat, which was not as slow as Luca’s but was in line with the other vampires in the room.

  And…

  Chloe cocked her head to one side, closed her eyes again, and took yet another deep breath she did not need to take. Another heartbeat, one faint and fast and new, came from inside her.

  * * *

  How much sleep could one human need? Indikaiya, tired of waiting, pushed past Rurik and into Nevada’s room, where the girl had been sleeping for going on ten hours. “Bring food,” she instructed sharply.

  Rurik was not accustomed to being ordered around, but he huffed a bit and then left to do as he’d been told. Indikaiya called after him. “Meat! She will need protein.”

  Even her raised voice didn’t rouse the girl.
r />   Indikaiya stood beside the bed and called the witch’s name. The girl still didn’t stir. She would think the witch dead if not for the healthy pink of her cheeks and the gentle, steady breaths. She called again, louder, and then she reached out and shook the bed.

  That did the trick. Nevada came up in a shot, with a sharp intake of breath and a shake of her mussed red hair. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have no time to waste,” Indikaiya snapped. “You have a task and you need to see to it.” Luca would be leaving this place soon. He needed something to dampen his annoying gift.

  “I’m starving,” Nevada said as she rolled out of bed. She wore the most ridiculous nightwear. Short pants, small shirt. And was that… ducks? The creatures on Nevada’s wrinkled pajamas looked like no living thing that had ever existed in reality.

  “Rurik is bringing food.”

  Nevada headed for the bathroom. “I don’t think it will take long to finish up. This job is much easier than the last one.” She glanced back. “The sanctuary spell is holding?”

  “Yes.”

  Her relief was evident. “Good.”

  The girl spent several minutes behind closed doors. Indikaiya heard the flush of a toilet, running water, the brushing of teeth. There was an annoying long wait before the door opened and Nevada stepped out, dressed casually, and with her hair pulled back into a hastily formulated and somewhat messy braid. It was a sensible hairstyle, which is why Indikaiya herself had adopted it long ago.

  Rurik arrived with a plate of eggs and bacon, along with a piece of toast. “Protein,” he said, a testy aside to Indikaiya. He looked at Nevada with… longing? Lust? Caring? All of those, it seemed. As if they could afford such complications!

  “Never fear, pretty witch,” he said. “It was one of the conduits who did the cooking. I am not what anyone would call good in the kitchen.”

  The girl smiled at Rurik. She was too sleep-muddled and stressed to show much in the way of interest in anything or anyone, but her eyes did spark a bit.

  Indikaiya turned her head away. It was as if she were intruding on a private moment. She frowned. It would be beyond foolish for Rurik to get involved with a human. When the time came, when this war was over, the Warriors would return to the burial grounds of others of their kind, and they would walk back to their own world to wait for the next time they were called. That was what they lived for. The next battle.

 

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